Camera Shy
by Wrenne
Summary: It took Antonio one stormy afternoon and a summer dawn to confess. Now, Lovino is away, he never realized that this is what happens when life plays with its players.
1. Chapter 1

**Camera Shy**

Antonio sighed deeply before putting the earphones in his ears. It's the only way to escape to his own world, its okay to be like this, it's okay to spoil himself, because he knows no one else will – at the very least, not anymore.

The sun outside is covered by the faint clouds, surely, it is not a good day to go outside because of the heavy rain the other day, and now, seeming like everything is right again, though the sun is hidden, it's rays are shining through and gives the day another bright start.

Antonio reached for the pepper. Lunch, of course, makes the day better. With a few pinch of this and that, the room was immediately filled with the smell of an old time favorite. Antonio started whistling a few lines from his new song, but another song was stuck in his mind for some reason. The day is unusually relaxing, no sudden calls or doorbells ringing, no hard knocks on the door; just the silent air and his wonderful voice filling it. But Antonio somehow feels uncomfortable – fearing the fact that this solitude will end sooner than it should be.

"…there is no hope for you and me…"

He can't help it, the words kept on floating in his head like stars waiting to be noticed. Since he heard the song on the radio yesterday, he can't keep it off of his mind. He pulled the earphones off of him; get a hold of the paper he wrote yesterday and partially halted. He realized that every word suggests the very emotion he felt three years ago – agony circled with cheerfulness, when Lovino rejected him. Or can he even call it a rejection?

It still eats him every time he remembers the look on Lovino's face – smooth and pale, startled, and red. The very reason that left Antonio hanging – 'til today, there's something stirring inside him, telling Antonio that Lovino's trying to hide something to himself, that every time Lovino will cross ways with Antonio, he can't look him in the eyes like before.

Those eyes that tried to avoid him, green orbs owning that unique spark that he wants so much for himself. Antonio wanted them so badly he'd die a thousand times trying to nail them on his own.

"…you're not sure how you feel…"

_Really, what am I to him?_ Antonio asked himself. To think about it, Lovino never said he doesn't want to see him, or that he hated him, or that he should stop his never-ending confessions. Lovino – he never really know what he wants.

But if he knows, will Antonio be a part of those desires?

A smirk formed on Antonio's perfectly tanned face. _Desires._ Such a bold word, when will Lovino know the meaning of it?

A few hours already passed, his sweet exclusion was bombarded by a call – of a very loud and angry voice from the other line.

"Where in the world have you been?! You re-scheduled everything without my consent! Damn it!"

Of course, he expected this. His daily routine will never be complete without this Chinese shouting at him, and even on the phone, the intensity and volume of that familiar voice is never startled.

"A good day to you too, sir." He chocked out. "What can I do to help you?"

Wang sighed deeply before growling on the phone. "Get your lousy ass off of your couch and start moving to my office, bastard!"

Antonio shushed a laugh. Hearing his manager curse is becoming a habit; the one making him want to burst out laughing is the fact that Wang never perfected his way of saying things, his curled tongue and unusually high-pitched voice, who won't react?

"Easy, Yao-san." He answered, his cheerful voice not changing.

"Easy?!" the Chinese replied, the phone about to break. "Easy for you to say! You're never in my position!"

"Well maybe someday I will!"

"Someday is never today, Antonio."

Antonio paused. For a moment, he doesn't know what to reply. _Someday…that word somehow gives hope to people, you know. Don't crush it like that, like…like it's nothing._ Antonio wants to answer, but he knows that his stand is weak and that his manager will never understand…hope is all that he has, now even that part of him is starting to rumble, starting to tremble. What will happen to him without that little glimpse of hope?

"Don't worry manager; I'll take care of them." It came out suddenly, Antonio never wanted to lie, but he had said it.

"How?" The other line replied, obviously not believing in his answer.

Antonio gave himself a mental punch. _Just to end the conversation. Get this over with, Antonio. _ "I have my ways."

The sunrays behind Antonio's eyelids felt so warm; if only he could lie on his bed the rest of the day…or forever, he just wants to try to empty his head, wants to shut the world off. But not a second passed that he will not think of Lovino, no, not forever, he can't lie on his bed forever; he still needs to see Lovino. Everything around him is filled with his memories. Every little memory and joy holds him back, simply everything. Hugging a pillow, an image suddenly popped out – of a warm summer dawn, green orbs and silky skin, not forgetting the stubborn curl that always stands so high. Lovino, the lovely, adorable, little Lovino. Lovino, who's stubborn and naïve and innocent – and everything that Antonio ever wanted.

Antonio breathes in the morning air. The quiet ambiance and composed dancing trees above him. In moments like this, all he can go back is to that dawn, and the recollection of that stormy afternoon.

"And there you are, saying you have ways yesterday so I let you off the hook!"

Antonio scratched the back of his neck, half-heartedly smiling at the Chinese. "Well, you see…" _You see I just want to end that conversation yesterday._ No, of course he can't tell him that. "You see I'm quite too relaxed yesterday, so…"

"So you didn't want to be bothered!" Wang finished his sentence. "You'll never change Antonio; you're always like these, never really caring about the world around you."

"Huh?" was all Antonio could think of. "Why are you saying that?"

Wang sighed, and reached for something on the desk beside him. "You will know, hopefully." And then he clicked his tab open, bringing it to life. Antonio watched as the Chinese occasionally stops to read schedules and contracts and projects. Antonio sat still, wants to ask more, but found himself dumbfounded with what his manager just said. His mind was flying off yet again, thinking back to instances that he doesn't even want to remember, until Wang called his attention with a knock on the table. "Earth to Antonio!" he repeated.

"_Si! Si!" _

Wang rolled his eyes, and returned his gaze to the device. "At 10 am, we'll meet Jones and his manager, well; the project concerning them is yet to be plan when they arrive." Wang started taking down notes and clipped it to the corkboard. He muttered something to himself before continuing, "At 2 we'll meet Williams and same goes, I'll see that French," Antonio saw the desperation in Wang's worried expression. One of which, meeting the French man will give way to his manager saying awful words, in English, Chinese, Spanish, or in any language he can. The French just drives Wang to his temper's edge.

Oh, but that French man is a dear friend of Antonio. Ever since they were kids, the three of them, along with Gilbert, will plan for the future. Of course Gilbert's future was a bit awkward when he said he wanted to marry a kid on the television playing the piano, though Francis and Antonio thought of it as a joke before. But now, facing the same helpless feeling of loving someone, Antonio learned to reconsider that sissy joke of Gilbert, wishing that he had cheered him on during that time.

That thought made Antonio wonder, had Gilbert met that piano player he always wanted to marry? Since all Antonio can remember was their last talk after Gilbert's 19th birthday, where he said that he'll travel the world to meet that pianist. Antonio can still remember saying that his friend's biggest problem wouldn't be looking for the guy, but proposing to him.

"Nah, he will not be able to contain his feelings for me once I get to one knee, or much applicably, when he sees me naked!"

"Shut the hell up, Gilbert." Antonio laughed. "There are just two people who believe that you're awesome enough to even lure him to your place." Antonio looked at Francis and back to Gilbert. "Sorry to say, those two people are me and that long-haired guy."

Francis stopped strumming his guitar. "What?" his eyes slowly scanned the white-haired guy in front of him, and then snickered, "I never thought of this Gilbert as someone awesome."

Antonio whistled. "Looks like I'm the only one who believes in you, Gilbertii." And slowly taps the guy's shoulder.

"You shut the fuck up, Spaniard. Who said I'll lure him in?" Gilbert answered, throwing a deadly glare at Francis. "Don't feel sorry for me, Tonio, besides, I wouldn't want this guy's sweet tongue!"

The two of them laugh while Francis said something Antonio couldn't remember. "I'm sure he'll invite himself willingly when he sees my widely open door!" Gilbert continued.

"Oh, he'll get disgusted once he smells your rotten socks!" Francis blurted.

"Oh French guy, you don't know what true love can do!"

"Yeah, it makes you lose your sense of smell!"

Those days, yeah, those days felt like yesterday, when Antonio felt things where finally falling to their place.

Wang clears his throat and continued scrolling his tab. "At four, pictorial with the Russian Quintessence and we'll meet – " Wang trails off. Antonio knew for a second that something was up, the way Wang blushed and squirm slightly, but he refused to say it loudly. "Ivan Braginski."

Come to think of it, he's always having photo shoots with this Quintessence without properly meeting the owner of it. Ivan Braginski, huh? Maybe this day will be the day he'll finally meet this mysterious guy.

The whole morning was a chaos, especially when you're in a meeting, highlighting a pizza in the center of everyone, well, yeah, and please add the loud American pop star named Alfred F. Jones.

"Yow! Nice meeting you, well, I'm Alfred; you can call me Hero, but never call me Freddy." That was the lively introduction of the guy whose album was Platinum in just two weeks. Talk about talent. Maybe this loud guy have way too many than Antonio expected.

The shorter guy beside the American slowly rolled his eyes. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, it's a pleasure meeting you."

Wang beamed, "It's a pleasure to work with you."

Well, this is formal, Antonio thought. "They're too formal huh?" Alfred dodges him. "I'm starting to think that this business is boring."

"Huh?" Antonio answered, and then looked at the two managers exchanging business cards, well, yeah, what a sight. Antonio shrugged. "Well, that's their work." And then he looked at the guy beside him, and tilted his hat off. "Antonio Banderas, at your service."

The American's lips formed an O shape. "That's you?! Really?!" he almost jumped up and down as he circled Antonio.

Antonio suppressed a laugh as he faked the identity of the famous actor. But he never really knew that this guy doesn't know him. "How nice! You're a pop star and an actor! How do you do that?!"

Antonio gave in this time. "Sorry kid, I'm just joking." The younger man's face slowly dropped, Antonio felt a bit guilty about it, and so he decided to take this guy once with him. "But we're pretty close, we worked on a project once, sometime if I visit him, I'll make sure you'll come with me."

The American's gaze shot up. "That's what I'm talking about!" he grinned.

The Brit cleared his throat. Antonio threw glances at the American and to his manager, named, Arthur? Yes, if he remembered it right, and noticed their unspoken conversation using their eyes, though often, the Brit's bushy brows shut up at the American's poor manners. Not until,

"Can I ask the two of you out for a moment?" Arthur asked, but his tone is not asking, it's more of – commanding. "We will just have some private discussions to do, and I'm pretty sure that this Yank here would want a tour 'round the place?" Arthur continued, and then clears his throat once again.

"Well, it's okay for me." Antonio replied.

"Why would I want a tour 'round?" Alfred disagreed.

"Because you do." This time, Arthur crossed his arms across his chest. "Or I'll beat you up."

Alfred raised a hand, smirking. "What kind of beating up?"

"GET THE HELL OUT!"

Antonio thought for a second that the American will grumpily stomp his feet out the door, but Alfred's smirk only stretched. "As long as we take the burgers."

It felt awkward to hear the rustle of the food wrappers as Alfred gathered them joyfully. The heavy atmosphere surrounds everyone in the room, but it seems like the American has some sort of shield to protect him and sort him out from the group.

At last, the gathering-session was ended and it seemed like a brand new start to hear the heavy door behind them thud.

"Well, I thought there was more, but, yeah, help me carry these." Alfred slowly transferred the other pack of food to Antonio as he carefully embraced the others. "You know, this place is quite nice, don't you think? Before I thought you Spaniards are nothing but swords and spices!"

Antonio forced a laugh. "Well, you know, that was some centuries ago."

What Alfred and Antonio were carrying was almost all of the food that sits on the meeting table awhile ago. But those managers are doing business, right? So, suppose they will just focus on the projects, no time for food, so this is quite okay.

The two kept on walking as if they were in a maze. Well, Alfred is leading him, one thing Antonio was suppose to be the one doing.

"Uh, mind if we take the music room?"

"Glad you asked! I'm beginning to think you're so insensitive because it's my first time here!"

"Uh…" Antonio forced a smile. "Yeah."

Antonio must admit, this Yank has a lot to talk about when it comes to baseball and music.

"You're sure it's okay to eat here?"

"Yeah, it's my, how you say this, 'seclusion-room-when-I'm-free-room'?"

"Oh, so you slack here!"

"In one word, yeah."

In a matter of fifteen minutes, the whole place was a mess.

"Hero, right?"

Alfred's eyes sparkled. "I like you now." He laughed.

"You think Wang and that guy with you is taking too long?"

Alfred looked at his wrist watched. "You think they're doing something, like –"

Antonio laughed. "No, of course, no."

"How'd you know?"

Antonio clapped his hands. "Since you don't know these people, Wang is still madly in love with a Russian named Ivan."

"Oh." Alfred said. "Y're right, I don't know the Russian guy, know what happened?"

"Something to do with winters."

"That's tragic! Might as well do something for your manager sometime!"

"Yeah…" Antonio imagined for a moment of what really happened during that winter vacation last year, then he remembered. "Oh, yes." Antonio said while munching his pizza. "Do you know this song?" and then Antonio took a swig from the bottle of soft drinks in front of him, and started strumming the acoustic guitar he had been holding for the last hour. "There is no hope for you and me, 'cause this long drive might be…"

Though the fact that the American is loud but fun to talk to, it didn't distract Antonio from thinking of Lovino, Lovino never left Antonio's memories, not even once, not even once did he forgot to think how the Italian was doing, what the Italian was doing, and why was he doing those – including this vague expression of rejection, if it is one.

"The last time I take the wheel, you're not sure how you feel…"

Antonio knew that it would be a lot easier if Lovino did just said that he never wants to see him anymore, that he doesn't feel the same way, that he hated him. With clear facts thrown to his face, Antonio would just simply accept it, but he's not sure if he'll be able to move on. The whole thing was just so confusing; everything about it gives him hope, warmth and joy that always perplex him. But Lovino just answered him with a soft smile – what would that possibly mean?

"Wish this song would end right, wish that you would stop, making my head spin…"

Alfred's voice started to mingle with his. Antonio noted that the American's voice was so far from his speaking timbre where his high energy was clearly conveyed, whereas his voice now, while singing, is also lithe but unruffled.

"But what if we…"

_If we just pretend…?_

Two acoustic guitars being played by adept hands, the air dancing with the comforting sound of existence, Antonio's voice was livelier while he's singing with Alfred. As the Italian is still at the back of his mind, he kept on playing.

"_You'll play the love and baby I'll play the lead, _

_So strike a pose and fake a smile, you're coming with me. _

_I'll strum my guitar, because I know how you are,_

_You're just a little bit camera shy, _

_But you're still a star."_

"So you do know it!" Antonio laughed, still playing with the strings of his guitar after a few minutes.

"Well, yeah!" Alfred answered, reaching for another pack of junk food. "It's from home, sung by a band named School Boys Humor."

"Really…"

"Really!" Alfred lively responded. "How'd you know of it?" Alfred asked, removing his eyeglasses and wiping it with the hem of his shirt. "I mean, it's from America, and, last time I checked, we're in _España_!"

"Yeah, on the radio." _Yes, it's Spain. Why…_ Antonio smiled to himself. "Well, more of fate, I supposed."

"Fate you say?"

"Yeah."

Alfred straightens his arm and reached for his guitar once again. "This," he said. "I share this special song with someone very dear to me."

A few simple strums of the guitar strings and Antonio found himself waiting attentively for the music. Simple catchy tones filled the room immediately.

"Whenever I think of you, I lose all the strength I have, but when I think of you, I'm stronger because of your love." Alfred's eyes were fixed on the strings; Antonio assumed that his eyes were sparkling with something else behind those glasses, but he refused to interrupt.

"Your most favorite song all along, streamed from our shared earphones, a casual moment, I suppose, is actually a memory."

Another thing caught Antonio's attention, Alfred's eyes were shut now, yet his hands are so familiar with the chords that they never missed anything, and if they had, Antonio never noticed.

"I promise to you, I promise to be with you forever…"

_What gives people the power to express themselves?_

"Change feelings of mine, never…."

_To see what's beyond the normal sight can see._

"I can't get you out of my mind. I want to be with you forever…"

_To change and move on or be still and patiently wait._

"So would you mind me if I'll say it a little louder…?

_Or maybe, simply,_

"I love you."

_Love. Love gives them the confidence._

"Yeah…"

7:10 pm

October 22, 2012

*revision

6:10 pm

October 13, 2012

Disclaimer: Camera Shy by School Boy Humor & Promise You by ShounenT.


	2. Glimpse of Yesterday

Camera Shy .2

"Good news for you, Spaniard." Wang greeted Antonio with a wide grin plastered on his face, his hands placed behind his back as he entered the room.

Antonio turned to look at the Chinese, and then removed his headphones. "Huh?" He snickered, "Tell me about it then."

Honestly, Antonio is not that interested in the ratiocination of the meeting, and, he's currently having his lunch, wondering why he's still not full from the burgers he ate a few hours ago. But, getting in the way of Wang's good mood is the least thing anyone should do. Sure his manager is someone, say, someone with the longest patience, but when he's irritation get the best of him, and of course no one will want to know the outcome. And for sure, Antonio wouldn't be alive to have the honor to narrate and describe it. Chinese, specifically, Wang has the best temper.

Antonio noticed Wang glance around and made a disgusted face upon being cognizant of the mess Antonio and Alfred made inside the slack room. The Spaniard is thinking that he'll blow up this time again, but, in Antonio's surprise, Wang decided to ignore it and proceeded with his news. "Remember the American pop star?"

_How could I forget that loud American who just said goodbye, like, ten minutes ago?_ "Yeah."

"Well," Wang smiled as his hands waved elegantly in the air, eyes shining excitedly. "Mister Kirkland is offering us an album, of course along with the other incentives –"

"Whoa, that's nice." Antonio disrupted, suddenly thinking of working with a fun American, one that can play along with his pranks and can understand his mood swings with an abrupt thrum of guitar strings. That's similar to having a paid vacation.

"Yes, and so, I'll need an answer." Wang looked at him intently, giving him a folder that contains the contract.

"Huh?" Antonio lifted his right brow for a second, and then reached for the pile of papers. He skimmed through it and read the plans for the upcoming work. "Can't you see what my expression says?" He added to his answer, shoving his face upwards – eyes bulged out of their sockets, veins popping, his lips overstretched as far as he can. "I'm like, so excited here!"

Wang chuckled, finally retreating on the couch beside Antonio. "I'm guessing you're in good terms with Mister American, huh?"

Antonio simpered, placed the folder on the table; and grabbed another handful of chips. _Yeah, probably more than in good terms with the American_, he thought. Alfred is such a nice guy, yes, he's brassy and flashy most of the time, but one can guess that there's more to that attitude. "You can say that."

Antonio saw Wang smiled through the corners of his eyes, "Good. You'll need that."

Wang's happy for Antonio, yes, he is. But Wang's eyes, they are as sad as his first day returning from that winter vacation.

"_That's tragic! Might as well do something for your manager sometime!"_

_Alfred's right. I got to do something with this situation_. Antonio glinted at Wang. He may look fine, but Antonio knows he's not. How could he? Antonio knows the pain that comes from loving someone who's not sure about his feelings, but this, he knows this matter hurts more. Because in this, both of them love each other, and they know it, but they can't evince it, because of something lamentable and just – plain sad. Antonio couldn't think how he can describe this state, and the fact that he can't do anything because he's out of the question, and he's, he's completely blank about this whole affair.

He knows that his manager doesn't want any body to be involved in a problem, especially, a problem where he's the only one who can handle. Ever since knowing Wang, Antonio knows the difference when there's something wrong with his laugh, and as a matter of fact, Antonio can only hear Wang's genuine laugh, whenever Ivan will call him from Russia. Antonio treated Wang like a big brother in sense of respect and gratitude; he just wants what's best for Wang. But he also wants anything that could make the Chinese happy. And now, he can do neither, he can't help him solve his problem.

He felt so useless yet again.

While Antonio was silently talking to himself, asking what he can do to even lighten Wang up even for a bit, considering whether it will be something normal or even foolish; a certain quiver managed to make its way through his concentration. Wang reached for his phone in his back pocket. The light from the phone partly making Wang squint, "Oh, I've received a message from Mister Lukasiewicz."

Antonio's thoughts dropped on the spur of the moment. "Luka- what?" Antonio asked through mouthful of chips. _I've heard his name quite a few times already, _"Oh, that guy!" he half-shouted in effort to be heard.

Even though, Wang looked at him with exasperation, "Feliks Lukasiewics, he's the president of the company you are in, don't tell me you don't know."

"Of course I know," Antonio pushed the chips down his throat with a swig of soft drink. "That's why I, said _'Oh, that guy!'_ awhile ago." Antonio defended. But, really, he almost forgot his name. It's just, he's so mysterious with all the little meetings and stuff. "What does he says?"

"Hmmm," Wang looked at the screen of his phone, gradually adjusting his spectacles to read the text. "He says _'I'll be on vacation 'til next month, any plans or contracts or anything, I'll be sending my Vice to do the work. He'll meet you in America, that's our main base anyway. Well, here's his contact.' _And…" Wang narrowed his eyes. "A number was sent with it."

"Main base?"

"You're acting like a dotard, Antonio." Wang took a deep breath. "Well, we can just file the contract directly with the vice president when we're already in America."

Antonio partially halted. America? Well, he has traveled through Europe and is a big star, but he never stepped on America because of some laziness admonishers. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Oh! My bad, haven't told you?" Wang turned to him. "We'll be making the album in the Big Apple, since it's such a waste of money and time to do the work, continents apart." Wang stood up, stretching his back slowly. "By the way, our meeting with Mister Williams is cancelled because he lost his bear, Kumajirou, is that? I suppose."

_Didn't even give me the time to celebrate. Huh, bear? _ "Is that – true?" Antonio's voice was wrapped with fulminant wreckage.

Wang held out his phone, raising his eyebrow. "At least that's what the French guy told me. Can't believe they managed to raise a bear."

"Oh, poor Matthew." Antonio sighed dramatically.

"Wha – you do believe in this excuse?" Wang placed his hands on his hips, scowling at Antonio.

"How could I not?" _Poor Matthew, no body appreciates his honestly, except Francis._ "That bear's his most valuable possession!" Maybe much more important than Francis, in fact.

Wang slapped his temple. "Just, go home and pack your belongings, Spaniard." He then drew a deep breath before taking a step away from Antonio. "I think I might as well postpone the shoot with the Russian Q. at four."

Antonio shot up. He can't possibly do that, is he still not ready to see his Russian? Well, maybe he's not, but – "Huh? Why?" Antonio uttered. He can't understand why Wang's like this. Yes, he doesn't know the whole situation, Antonio reminded himself from the thought awhile ago, but he never thought that Wang would run away from his problem, not like this. No, Wang needs to see Ivan. They need to meet. Maybe then, they'll work things out.

"My head's going to burst." Was Wang's short reply, and then Wang turned to the door to leave, his hand ready to twist the door knob.

Antonio can't think of any reason, his head suddenly feeling so light. He doesn't know the Russian that much anyway, and, he knows that Wang knows that he's not a workaholic either to push him to continue the shooting. "Uhm, I want to see Ivan?" His tongue slipped, sounding like a child about to throw his tantrums; his head spinning with ridiculous answers he can't make out.

Wang stopped; it felt for a second that he will burst into tears. "You go alone."

What kind of an excuse is that, Antonio?! Of course, he will not buy it; it's not even sell-able! The devastation Antonio felt was unbearable. Maybe Wang did burst into tears when he slammed that door close. Antonio wanted to follow him, but his head was wobbled with too much thoughts.

The sun already dropped and the night was already spread throughout the town. Antonio did not come to the shooting, well, first, he doesn't know where the shooting will be, and second, he just felt so down after that earlier bedlam.

It's such a waste, to think of it. Such a beautiful relationship they are having even if they are worlds apart. Antonio knows that Wang really loves that Russian; it's not that Wang have told him that, but Antonio just knows it. His moods are never in a shuddery manner since their relationship started two years before. But now, he's back to his old self – patience short, sadness overflowing. But how could he help him if he doesn't want his help? This question keeps on pounding him all day, why does life has to be so complicated?

He had just started preparing his baggage when he heard a familiar song on the radio.

_This isn't right you say_

_It takes some time you know_

_Let's try again tonight_

_This fight is getting old_

This day, since Alfred told him that he must do something to help Wang, it occurred to him that he managed to not think of Lovino. For almost six hours, well that's the longest he can bear, without actually knowing it. Now, all he can think of again is him. How is he doing now? The last contact he had with Lovino was when he called him, told him a simple goodbye, and went to Italy to live his own dream. Since then, he didn't receive any calls or even a text from the dark haired young man.

_I think the spotlight_

_Always getting stares fright_

_Wish this song would end right_

If his Grandpa Roma didn't request for his leave, he might as well stopped him. But no, he could not stop Lovino from attaining his ambitions, couldn't stop him from leaving because of an obvious reason. Actually, he could search the internet and have some news, but, he did not. It's because he wanted fate to bring Lovino back to him. Considerably, he's fighting the urge to, that's why he hasn't let Wang give him a free wifi at home. And, another option is to ask Feliciano about his dear brother, but that cheerful Italian's way too busy with being the heir of the company since Lovino turned it down, also they have never had any connection since Feliciano started training. Antonio's just too frustrated with how the things turned to be just like another cipher.

In America, what kind of story will he start?

"Hello?"

"Antonio! Antonio! Antonio!"

"Feli – ciano?" A nice morning to start with Lovino's younger brother calling him, Antonio scratched the back of his head, yawns silently and rubbed his still sleepy eyes. "Why did you call?"

"Uhm… I heard you're going here in America, and I was wondering what kind of tour would you want with Hero? And I think it'll be nice if the theme would have red as a dominant color~! See? Because this, the flags of Spain and America where you two are from both have the color red in them and – "

"Feli?" Antonio nicely interrupted. "Good morning."

"Oh! Of course! Good morning! Good morning! Sorry for my rudeness! As I was saying – the celebration after the grand launch of the album of you two will – "

"Is it not too early for that Feli?"

Feliciano stopped, Antonio heard him sighing over the phone. "Well, Grandpa Roma wants me to organize something…"

"I'm sure it'll be a success if it's you, Feliciano. But it's not bad to plan things early either!"

"Oh, thank you…"

Somehow, Antonio felt as if something is bothering Feliciano. Sure thing that his voice is as jolly as always, but there is this one thing that kept Antonio wondering. "Is something wrong?"

Antonio heard Feliciano's suspiration. He imagine him wincing silently over the phone, and finally, he replied. "My heart is aching Antonio!" and he followed it with a sob.

Antonio, who least suspects it, was taken aback and asked himself, _what?_ "Huh?" Antonio responded. "What do you exactly mean by that?"

"Well, I can't tell it to you exactly, because it's bad, but, I'm having…" Feliciano's breath turned to a whisper, "Love problems?"

Antonio pulled himself up and sat comfortably on his bed. "Oh, is that the reason why you called?"

Silence. Feliciano held a good minute of silence before answering disturbingly, "Well, yes."

A soft smile lit Antonio's face. "I'm listening."

"Well, I know this someone." Feliciano faltered. "He's, he's tough and strict, but nice…and every time I'll see him, my heart will beat so fast, like it's about to jump out my chest! But…" Feliciano lose his tongue again, but managed to catch it. "We can't be together…"

Antonio's brows waggled. "Why?"

"That's one of the things I can't tell you!"

"Oh," He answered. "Okay, okay."

Feliciano sighed. "Antonio?"

Antonio rubbed his chin softly. "Let me think. Why can't you be together?"

"That's a secret!"

Antonio slapped his forehead gently. It's like solving a math problem without any given! "Uh, Feli? It's hard to give an advice if I don't know anything."

"Uh." Feliciano hummed. "Well, let's say I have a friend."

Antonio gave himself a leer. "And this friend of yours?"

"Really, really likes this other friend!"

"And?"

"And, they can't be together, because…"

"Because?"

"Because they are –"

"Feliciano! What are you doing with my phone?!" A voice called out, and then all Antonio could here was rushing sounds, a begging soft cry being answer by a shout, and then, finally, a return of signal.

"I'm just making a call!" he managed to hear from Feliciano.

"Let me have that! Who's this?"

Poor Feli, even in other places…and suddenly, Antonio heard the other's voice becoming louder. "Hello?"

Antonio felt his whole body shivered. That voice that he didn't even recognize a while ago was the voice that kept him locked in his past for the last three years.

"Who's this? Could you just wait until Feliciano calls you again? See, we're like, busy."

It's him. The accent, the diction, the speech pattern, and that, that delicate tone, made Antonio stop dead. Antonio couldn't find his tongue and guessed that he will never for the rest of eternity.

"Okay, you're not answering. So I will put this down now and – "

"Lovino."

Time stopped. The chirping birds and the swaying trees, and the traveling clouds – all of them stopped. Even Antonio forgot that he needs to breathe as well. But when Lovino didn't answer after a few minutes, Antonio found himself back to the real world. A world where he keeps on guessing what Lovino feels for him, a world where he needs to hold on to a thin string of hope to survive.

Antonio didn't wait another moment when he decided to end the call. Wishing he could end the pain along with it. But if loving Lovino means feeling pain, although he will never get used to that stupid feeling, as long as he has a reason to survive. He'll carry on.

7:55 pm

November 23, 2012


	3. One Summer Dawn

One Summer Dawn

A coy smiled played on Lovino's lips.

It's today. Exactly four years after that unforgettable dawn.

"Hey Spaniard, wake up now." Lovino's hands landed yet again on Antonio's face. Making sure to make it harder for the hundredth time now, who knows what this bastard is taking in and what's in those pills that knocked him dead? Nonetheless, it's always the same deep sleep.

"Oh well!" Lovino shouted out loud. "Maybe throwing you out of the window will be better?" His foot tapped the wooden floor, waiting for any response, but nothing happened. True to his words and faithful to his irritation, Lovino started dragging Antonio through the receiving area, partially halting to catch his breath, and then continued until he reached the edge. He slowly tied the soft curtains to the sides of the window, and finally, pulling Antonio up in a way that almost half of his body is now hanging outside, his stomach resting on the bottom pane.

_That should do it_. He thought. But no, Antonio didn't even move to an inch of uneasiness or the like. This made Lovino's veins twitch, his forehead folding. "Seems like you don't care, huh?" with the provoking unconscious inanimate body of Antonio, Lovino began hauling the bigger man's leg with all his strength. _If this thing won't alarm this bastard, then… _Lovino reached for the other leg, now placing his body in the middle of Antonio's thighs, mentally slapping himself for the awkward position he had placed himself in. "One, two…" A prank, Lovino started it as a prank, but now, maybe doing it just to wake this man will be better. "Seriously, if you're not going to wake up I'll let you slip."

"Hey, I really like that new song you made…"

Lovino pause. _What song?_ "Huh?"

"Lovino?" Antonio softly chuckled.

Lovino peered, thinking that Antonio is now laughing at the both of them because of the pose; but honestly, Lovino thought that Antonio would scream first by seeing the ground ready to catch him. Just when Lovino finally met a good look at the Spaniard's eyes, it's closed, shut tighter than a jar of tomato jam. And of course he'll immediately notice if Antonio is half awake or faking the whole thing, living with him for almost three years now, he's sure that Antonio is still sleeping.

Lovino sighed. The throbbing veins before was about to pop now, he shot Antonio a senseless glare.

"I like you…"

Lovino froze. Those words, it always puts him off guard and at the same time, on the spot. And even now, knowing that this confession is nothing new, still Lovino felt like time stopped. The same feeling that never ends, never changes, and Lovino's sure that it never will.

"I really like you…"

Antonio always talks while he sleeps, but Lovino could still count the times when he'll said those words together, and now, it's the fourth time the Spaniard mentioned it. The Italian didn't really talked about it with Antonio since it'll be an embarrassing question, and it'll put them in an awkward state, and what does 'like' really mean? He doesn't want to jump into conclusions, and he's not prepared for any pain anyway.

While thinking about other things that suddenly popped out of his mind, he realized that something's slipping from his hands, but he decided to ignore it, his eyes staring blankly at nothing, and then, after a few more moments, it slipped. Lovino's hold onto Antonio's legs slipped, and it took Lovino a loud thud from below to realize it.

_Oh God, no!_

Lovino abruptly searched the ground, letting his neck extend to see clearer. There, he saw Antonio, pain painted across his face, hand holding the back of his head, and the other supporting his position.

_An injury? Or –_ Antonio slowly pushed himself up a little higher, "Awww!" his shut eyes now open, slowly adjusted to his surroundings. "_Mierda,_ how did I end down here?"

Lovino's heart fluttered with calmness, "Serves you right!" he shouted from above.

Antonio slowly looked up, giving Lovino a supposedly glare.

_He's angry… but he's fine._ And Lovino's feet moved on its own to Antonio's aid.

"Seriously, you're lucky I didn't have any broken bones or damages, because – "

"You won't wake up." Lovino interrupted, his arms crossed closed to his chest. "How am I supposed to wake your ass up?"

"But you don't need to do that!" Antonio heaved a sigh. Lovino watched him as he moved his eyes away from his, and then back, "You're being too unfair."

Lovino's eyebrows crooked, "Why?"

"You know I'll never do that if I were you."

"But you're not me and besides, I've already done it, so what's the point of – "

"You know I care about you too much to do something like that. You're being unfair."

Lovino's heart sank in guilt. If only Antonio knows how he's being too unfair right at this moment. Still the Italian won't loose his character; all of them gave up on him, so how does Antonio extend all this patience is still a question. But Lovino didn't find the right words to retort, he just stood there, watching the vast sky and its clouds that roll by, pretending like Antonio's not there.

Antonio half-heartedly dropped the music sheets on the floor. "Look at me, Lovi. I'm not angry because you've dropped me from the center window of your house's second floor. It's just, I trusted you enough not to, I never thought you care so little."

Lovino's eyes shot straight to Antonio, wished he could somehow explain that he didn't mean to, wish he could turn back time, wish he could just hug him and say sorry… to care this much over an accident. To find it hard to react in a situation, to be this nervous around someone to the point that he can't even talk or explain himself. This is what makes it unfair – him hoping for something impossible. Surely Antonio will leave like the others, surely he will.

"So what are you trying to say now, huh? Being all this dramatic and stuff." But as he always do, he tends to his protective self – to be able not to be hurt by someone, hurt them first. Lovino watch as Antonio's hands turned to iron fists. Watch his eyes open and shut again and again. Watch his sweat about to fall. And finally, watch him as he reach for the suitcase of his guitar.

"I'll go now. This Spanish nuisance is too much for you, I guess." And finally, Antonio barbed him a silent look.

Lovino wanted to say so many, wanted to say no, but he can't do anything. And he begged himself to at least say goodbye, or stand and run after Antonio, but he was ignored. He just sat there, looked at the door Antonio closed with all his might. And then, a wave of shuddering silence filled Lovino's whole being. He's alone…again.

He never understood why, all of those he had loved from the start, they always leave.

And he thought Antonio will be different. But then he realized –

He missed the out of tune streams of chords, the carefree laugh that Spaniard always makes, that soft giggles he always brings, and that never fading smile he always gives. He missed Antonio, and just a few minutes had past. Now, Lovino's not only alone, he's alone and somehow broken.

"Good morning Lovino."

Lovino annoyingly throw his mobile to the nearest wall in his room. What's good in the morning if your sweetest, lovable, adorable, almost perfect and terribly irritating brother will greet you nonstop since four in the morning?

_Great, perfectly great._ After he had destroyed his mobile, he somehow felt relived of the last days' stress. He leaned on the head of his bed, looking incredibly down. _What on earth are you doing here, first-born Vargas? Shouldn't you be in Italy, having your big break?_

And then a thread of ringing reverberated inside the house, having the cold chills he got, Lovino somehow knew that this day would actually come. He opened the front door, revealing a somewhat dazed Feliciano. "What are you doing here?"

Feliciano opened his arms and was about to give Lovino an outrageous hug when Lovino stopped him by exserting his arm slamming straight on Feliciano's face. "You're not answering your mobile so I thought I'll drop by!"

Lovino rolled his eyes as he leaned on the door frame, before snatching his hand back. "From Italy? That's not all, why are you here?"

Feliciano's expression suddenly changed as Lovino watched him carefully. "We got a call from the branch here, saying Antonio's recording might be cancelled. And that's a great contract to turn down, so…"

Lovino jerked. "Huh? Why?"

"He's missing, I'm thinking if he had left a message or if you know something about where he is now."

Lovino made way from Feliciano to enter the house. "Not with his grandma?"

"Lovi, his grandmother had to be transferred to Mexico because of her illness."

Really…Lovino never knew anything about it. Maybe Antonio had said something, but…still, "I never knew that…" he mumbled.

Lovino's eyes flashed back to what happened the last two days after their fight. Of course, the longing and empty feeling is included. Their fight. That fight which he had started. That stupid, nonsense, and… painful fight. Lovino breathe deeply. Of course he can't do anything now but sigh. "He's not here."

Feliciano somehow understood the silence Lovino needs, for a good three minutes Feliciano stood still, and finally sat down while looking at the house like it was something new to him.

"Say Lovi," Feliciano said, breaking the silence. "Antonio, you like him, right?"

Lovino felt his face slowly heating itself, for sure he looks ridiculously red right now, and what makes it more abashing is that Feliciano could notice it too. "What are you talking about?"

Feliciano gave him a wry smile. "Of course." He clears his throat, and then started yet again, "What do you think about pasta?"

_Pasta?_ Lovino asked himself. _What about pasta and Antonio?_ Okay, his brother is just this plainly weird is all, he convinced himself. Lovino retreated on the couch opposite his brother and answered, "It's good."

"How about pizza?"

_Now it's pizza? Whatever, at least he's not asking about Antonio anymore._ "It's good."

"Potatoes?"

Lovino made a disgusted face. "I hate them."

"Tomatoes?"

"They're the best!"

"Antonio?"

"I really love him!"

Feliciano chuckled softly. "So that's how it is."

Lovino's eyes were about to pop out his sockets. This silly brother of him just made him confessed. For a second, he thought that too, _so that's how it is._

"Lo-Lo-Lovino? Why are you looking at me like that!?"

Lovino smirked evilly. "Better return to Italy now Feli."

"Lovi?"

"I'm going to kill you. Choose the way how…guillotine or paper cut torture?"

"Huh? But you don't have any guillotine!"

"So that leaves me no choice, paper cut torture it is then."

"Wha-What?"

"Don't worry…you'll just prefer dying instead of being tortured through paper!"

That strong feeling that he can't confessed even to himself. It's so frustrating; his lips reacted even before he could think. So that's it, that's real. Why does he have to realize that in this kind of situation? So that was all this is about, this is no game anymore. It is that obvious? That even his insensitive brother realized it before he could even think what it was? Lovino slowly placed his guitar down along with the still scattered music sheets Antonio threw before. He never had the guts to reach for them; it's just – too dreadful. But everything feels like it's a joke. He never really said that he wanted to know what this is. This really isn't fair.

"Hello?"

"Lovino!"

"Gra-Grandapa?"

"Oh, it's so nice to hear your voice! How have you been?"

Lovino regretted answering the phone, thinking its Antonio on the other line. "Terrible, as what mother wanted me to be. Why?"

"Don't be like that Lovino." The other line chuckled. "I guess you're enjoying yourself there huh? In Spain?"

"I'm not in a vacation, how do you expect me to enjoy?"

He heard his grandpa uttered _fantastic_, and then returned to the phone, "That said, don't you think it's quite the time to come home?"

Lovino's eyes sharpened. Home. They wanted him to come home. After being thrown here and stuff.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You've been there for almost eleven years now. Don't you think being exiled there that long is enough? Grandson, it's time to go back."

Lovino's lips stretched into a beautiful smile but his heart fell off as well. To leave, to leave everything behind seems like a very unrealistic idea. But what's there to look forward to anyway? "Of course."

"So, you're coming back?"

"Yeah."

The scent if early daybreak, the dancing trees around them, the first blossoms of swift zephyr, the soft chirping of the birds from the east and the Spaniard that gives his heart a miss of beat – everything, is Lovino ready to leave all of this?

"Can anything stop you?" Antonio turned to Lovino, his arms stretched behind him to support his sit.

"This," Lovino said, looking at the scene before them. "Is enough to stop the me who wants to be as free as those clouds." And then he pointed to a far horizon, where the sun will be born in a few more minutes. "But realizing the me that wanted to have a family…" His eyes fell, nailed on the ground, stopping the tears that are about to drop. "And it's the first time my family ever needed me. It felt like, like I'm suddenly so valuable, it just feels so – "

"Overwhelming?"

"Yeah." He broke off. "Like if I don't take this chance, I might not be able to have any after this." He smiled. "It felt like it's the first time they ever notice my existence, like they care."

Antonio stayed silent for a moment. "Why?"

Lovino hesitated to say the next things, but this is Antonio, and this is alright. "I'm just so tired of trying." He responded. "I gave up a long time ago and they are eight years late, and I just thought – "

"You never gave up."

"Huh?"

Antonio presented Lovino with his warmest smile. "If you did, you wouldn't feel anything regarding your whole family. You would be, numb to everything that relates to them." And then those deep emerald spheres left Lovino hanging. "One thing that I kept on trying for almost all of my life now – to not care about my parents because, because they gave up on me a long time ago, when I needed them most."

Lovino felt the same thing pouring into him like old times. He's disturbed about the funny jumping inside hi chest, but at the same time, comfortable of Antonio's presence; making him fulfilled yet wanting for more. That strange feeling where someone makes you feel all the emotions that you never thought existed. So this is what it felt like to love someone. The bitter sweet satisfaction of having something that you never knew you wanted. It is…

"_Overwhelming…"_

And so why did he realized all of his just a few days ago? When in fact, he had known Antonio for eleven years, and even lived with him for three years?

"When you felt like you never belonged to anywhere." Lovino uttered.

"Like no one wants to take you in."

"Cause you're useless."

"A burden."

"Someone better off without existence."

It's like these times, these silly old dramatic conversations that they don't really understand, knowing their hearts are the ones who talks, that Lovino felt like somewhere he belonged, and that somewhere is here, in Spain, with Antonio. At times when they're drenched in their thoughts, trapped in a moment, locked in their own world. Maybe in the middle of those daft lines and replies, Lovino fell with this breathtakingly perfect Spaniard.

To be able to jet these feelings he always buried deep within him, to share it with someone else and to be understood, to remove, and to even replace it with complete happiness.

Lovino's chest felt tight.

All of this.

It will end soon.

It should end soon.

It's not like he's given a choice anyway.

"_Antonio?"_

"_I really like him!"_

"Say, have you ever felt uneasy around someone?"

Lovino took a glance at Antonio, noticed his bright eyes not moving from the rising sun, his nose stuck up in the air and his dark mahogany hair waltzing with the calm wind. "The feeling when, you felt like you can do anything. That feeling when you suddenly forget about everything that hurt you until now. All of them vanished with just one smile."

Lovino's world is now sinking, the rest of the world fading, all of a sudden, he just knows of a world where music, he and Antonio exist. And how the first rays of the sun touched the Spaniard's golden skin, making his jade orbs shine brighter, his hair lighter as leaves in autumn and his lips show the slightest hint of dryness.

"I always feel that when I'm with you."

Silence. A comfortable yet heart-pounding silence filled their little world. Lovino tried to make out what Antonio said, but it all comes down to the same thing.

"What does that mean then?" he asked himself, but did Antonio really said that? Or was it all in his imagination? He tried to shake it away, and as he did, he just stared at Antonio, who's still looking at the far horizon.

_It's just my imagination. For a moment, I thought he likes me too, likes, loves me too._

Lovino focused his sight on the climbing sun. Of course Antonio liking him is impossible.

And so he smiled to himself.

Having Antonio by his side like this is enough.

He could never again ask for more.

09:58 am

December 16, 2012


End file.
